Daily Wabash Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 10 July 1887 — Page 3

TiIE SUMMED RESORT.

Tobias Titoomb's robust health, Together with his masdva wealth, Was all the talk of all the town: And as his oaTiage rolled along The rii h'iat people in the t_rong

BoweJ humbly down.

JIia charmine gr inmte, with shady trees, Whera came the lake's refreshing breeze To woo the fountain's (jladsome spray His palace opacioos, cool, and nice Ah! wliKt a very paradise

On e'i.nmor da!

But mm is e.'er discontent! When summer cime Tobias went To bi-Ja the time "mid rriial scnee. It was the stylish tiling to do, Bo out he wnf, and others, too,

Who had the moans.

His room was low end siz by nine. His meals were cold, eicopt t'-e wii.e, His hu'tor strong enough to kill The fu^ar.p.r's his p-»ti»nce tried, Th UndloiJ and mosyuitoea Tied

In loiig.h of bill.

Hy day Tobias mopped his face And tried to think he liked the plaeo The while ho cor. ed th« bngs and flies By ninht he tossed upon a cot, Too hard, too narrow, and too hot,

Nor closed his eyep.

From day to day his health declined, At la a sn-stioke wrecked his mind And ere thn eummer days weie spent They brought to in homft to stare and drool. BJt yei he csme a wieor f'ot

Than when he wi*\ —Willis B. H-ewkins. Chicago, July 4, 1887.

TMaMaSi

By OHABLOTTB M. BRAEME,

Author of "Dora Thome."

CHAPfEIi xxxvnr.

'•Living or dead"—the words haunted him. AH he walked along he rfleeted how great must have baen the freight and the dread that caused Hyacinth to leave Hulme Abbey, despite the heavy rain and the blinding tempest. "My poor Hyacinth he Fa'd. "Can it be possible that she was Hying from

mc__j)

who love her a tl.cusf.cd times

better than all the world beside? iiow could she, why could she tiy from me?" He did not linow that her eensative, pure, tender mind her past errer eeemed like a gulf between them—that it was for 1 id sake, lest ehe shonld degrade him, that she had gone out in the darknetB of night, lieedle es to wether she went to her death. An they walked along, looking carefully right and hit, Lord Chanden celled his servant to him. "Tel! me ahcut her, Gustave," he said ••you cednot be afraid—it will not be betraying her—tell ea!l she said."

As they walked through the woods the man repeated all. "My poor, nchnppy darling!" said Adrian. "Ob, why did she evtr run ewsy from me?''

He knew that if she had but confided in him he would have gone to England with her, he would have stood by her side duiing the trial, and to have saved all gossip, he would have married mr at once. But she did not know this, and the fancied that agt inst him she bad committed an unpardonable sin. Hie great, noble heart yearned for her he longed with a lougiig no words can paint to take her in his arms and charm from her the memory of all her sorrow. "They tell me," he said, turning to Gustave, "that she was fond of these woods,

HIM!

there is a road runs through

them to Diptou. I thought it. probable thit, confused with the darkness and tha r.-.in, sh. might! ave taken a wrong turning and have lost herself in them." "h nr to so, my lord."

But Gui'ave evidently had very little hope, althou.-.h ho did not cure to distress his master by s.-ejing so.

They wore half way through the woods, ar.it v/ere walking on in profound silence, when Gustave, looking through a cluster of trees on the left, suddenly clutched his mater's arm. "Look, my loid—look!'* he said. "There is something lying under that tree!1'

With one bound as it seemed, Lord Chandon cleared the space. Something was there. It was Hyacinth's prostrate, silent figure, the gold bead bent forwarJ, the beautiful white face hidden from view.

Such a pitiful sight it was! Her cloak ar.d dress were dtenche dwith heavy rain soaked out of all form and color. There was not a movement, not a. sign of life. "She is dead 1" cried Giistsve.

But Lord Chandon pushed him away. With a erf o£ agony the man never forit, he raised the silent figure iu his arms, cUsped it to his breast as a mother does a loi'g loHt child whom she has recovered, wept turning tears over the pallid face, and kitsed with frantic pasbion and gri (he white lips. "Mv darling—my darling he cried. "Oh, lle.u en, do not let me lose her!

Then he cried out again, for there was a trembling movement of the white lips. Hyacinth opened her eyes and saw the eves of the man ehe loved to dearly, looking into her eyes with such a rapture of love ar.d pity, with such light in his wee, such trembling joy on his lips.

Give iv.e the brandy, Gustave, quickly," he said "and run—run for your lif'e. Tell L-tlv Dartelle that we have found Mies Vai'ghan, and ask her to send the carriage to ttieentrance to the woods, to telegraph f. a docior, and to have all ready :s soon as possible.'' •'Will she live?'' asked the man, looking at the white face anxiously. "1 think so —1 hope ro. Heaven i" too merciful to take her from me now!"

And when h* w«-s with her once more, he «*R8 not hsb.»m:-d to prav with burn-

irg tears and burning words that ttlis mot eciou3 life night bo epare-lto him. "Mv darling," he whispered—"my lost Etiayed treasure—my, poor unhappy child, why did you not trust nw" 1 would luivc stood by ynn until deed

He ki sed a:d cairessed her ho murmured Uivij'g words to her, until it seemed io him '.hat some l.ttle warmth had came into the tfhite face. He looked at the little hands, all wounded and torn with the brsmblrs—a! a great purple bruise on the white brow where she had fallen agsi'-.tt the tree. He tried to mske her hear and undei&tand his questions, but she was beyond that. Sr.o only nettled like a rhild in his arms, and emiled ouch a faint feeble smile that it wis pittiful to look upon.

Adrian would allow no other hands to touch her. He raised her, and rried her to the carriage be held her during the short drive he seemed as though he could hardly endure that any one else should look at her. When they had reached the house, and she had been carried up :o her room, he went to Lady Potrlle and took her hand in his. Tears shone in his eves "Lsdy Partelle," he said, "I wc-uld give my life for hers! Will you do ycur best to save her for m*—just as though she ..ere your own child? "I will,"' she replied "you may trust me

He did uot leave the housp, but Sir Aubrey Darte!!* lode oil to telegraph to Sir A-thur and Lsdy Vaughan the glad tidings that the lost one had been found. Dr. Ewald waa astonished, when he went down stairs, to find himself caught in a

imoitimpnlsi" »4

t"rh.°?ra.h,

don—"I must kuow the truth!" "Yon shall know everything that is to be known, my lord." "Is there any danger "I hope not—I think not. The young Indy hss certainly had a most marvelous escape. She might have met her death, for she lost her way, fell, against a tree, and was out- in all ih&t drenching rain. But

I have great hopes we have given a strong restorative, and that will b- ollowed by a Bleeping draught. If she is kept quiet and free from all excitement for two day8, 1 will venture to predict a perfect recovery."

Adrian was almost wild with happicess when Lady Dartelle came down stairs an hour afterward, and looked at him with cheerful smile. He kissed her hand's ea fervently that her ladyship blushed. "Does she know that I am hero, Lady Dartelle—that it waa I who found her?" he asked. "Y»B and she hag Hen asleep as hap py aa a little child. You need not be anxious- with a little cire, I em quite sure she will recover."

Late that evening Sir Arihur a«d Lady Veughan reached Hulme Abbe.y.

"Id

it true that you have found her, Adrian?" asked Lady Vaughan, her ir o.l face quivering *i:h emotion. "2ily poor lost darling! When nny I see her

Adrian told her how needful were quiet and repose, addh g: I sbaU not leave her ag'Un. If she would otiiy consent, I shcu!-' like be married at once. I shall never like to leave her agaii."

By this time it was known over the whole household that the young iiriy who had been there as governess w»s uu other than Miss Vaughan, the betrothed wife of Lord Chandon. The MhsesDjrtelle behaved verv creditably und- the circumstances. But then the whole aifair w«s pleasing source cf ezcitement it brought them so foward, and caused so my iutercttog conversations with M*t jor E!toa and Sir Richard Hastings. Perhaps all WZB for the best.

Oi the third day Lidy Dartelle sought Lord Chandon. "Miss Vaughan i3 much better," she said, with a net smile "she is sitting up in my room. Would you tike to see her there?

CHAPTER XXXIX.

Hyacinth roee when Adrisu entered Lady Dactelle's sitting rooai, and her beautiful faca grev very pale. She advanced one 6tep toward him with unconscious grace and sweetest humility in her altitude. She stretchtd out her hands to him with with a little imploring cry, and the next moment he had folded her te his heart—he had covered her face with passionate kisses and teats. She trembled in his strong gras "My darling," he said, "how could you so mistake? Did you not understand that I was your best friend?" Still holding her in his arms, he continued, looking in her face—"Why did you run away from me, Hyacinth? Did you not know that I—above all the woild—would have believed in, helped, and trusted you? Oh, child, why did you cause me this most bitter sorrow I r.ould have come to England with you, and would have stood by your side through all that bitter trial. Oh, rajHyacinth, how could you eo misjudge me?" "I though," the said, half hesitatingly, "that you would never forgive me, never love me again after you had learned what 1 had done."

He laid his hand caressingly on hei golden head. "What had you done, my darling? While you were a mere child, ignorant and innocent, a haudsome, thoughtless man came to you, and, building on your romance and poetry, persuaded you to elope with him and ther, before your elopement was half accomplished, you repented of it and returned home." "I did indeed repent!" she said cling ing to hitn. "And then, to save the young simpleton, who ouOht to have known better, you came forward and told the truth, at the risk of losing all you held dear in life. I cannot see anything in all that for which I should hate and never forgive you." "I thought," she explained, "that you would not forgive me—because I—loved Claud." "But you did not love him," said Adrian, quietly, "or you would have married him." "No," she affirmed decidedly. "I did not love him. I waa very young, and he was the first who ever praised and liked mo. My love was but a girlish fancy, and it died in a few minutes when I saw that he had persuaded me to do wrong." •'1 know that. I will not reproach you any more but I wish you had trusted me. Why you not?" "I drred not,' she replied. "When I rerd of the murder, it seemed to m3 that a sudden cloud of shame and disgrace had fallen over mo. I never once thought thfit vou could forgive me. My idea was to hide myself forever from all those who had ever known me. I loved you too well, Adrian, to wish to tuliy your life by my disgrace." •'Hush he said, almost sternly. "I will not hear you say such words of yourself no disgrace has ever attached to you." "Adrian," she whispered, "do you tito fcrs-ive me?"

He kissed the upturned face. "My darling," he said, "I have nothing to forgive it w*3 after all, but the shadow of a sin."

There fell over them a blissful silence, and then, looking earnestly at the sweet pale face, Adrian said—

You aie nut strong, Hyacinth, and I am keping you standing sit do#n here, dear." lly placed her on a couch and knelt by her side, diawing the golden on his breast. "Thank Heaven, I have found you, my darling!' he exclaimed. "Give me one kiss to obliterate all the past bitterness."

She raised her face with the grace ar.d simplicity of a child, and kissed him. "Will you tell me," he said, "ail the stcry 1 vour vicissitudes? I want to know it so tint I may give princely rewards to all who have been kind to you

She told him all—the grief, the struggle, the pain—all that it had cost her to leave him, believing as she did that she should never see him again—all the shame and agony of the trial, and &U that followed. He listened, never inter mpting her, but drawing her morfe closely to him as though to indicate that nothing should ever take her from him again. "Where do you say Dr. Chalmers livesb1'

She told him. ''I shall never rest," said Adrian, "nutil I h-.ve seen him. I must go to London expressly to thank him. Why, my darli"g, what would have become of vou but fjr him? He welt deserves the name of good Samaritan. We will reward him—hi3 good deed shall meet with suitable recognition."

During the first interview, Adrian said nothing to her of Lidy Vaushn, She looked so fragile, so delicate, he did not like to sgiute her. But that same evening he went sgain to see her. He held in hands a bouquet of early violets,and she smiled as their sweet fragrance greeted her. "I have beea searching all over tha woods for thtBe," he Mid and ehe took

•a

£E EXPRDB8,

AJ

1 this morning Vaughan. Have yon any idea how Lady Vaughan loves yon?" "No," she replied "I—I am afraid of her. I know you wili think me a cward —I cannot help it. She ia eo grav^, go etern—yet 1 love her very dearly." "Would yo be perfectly happy now

Hyacinth, if you were quite at peace with

She had not noticed the opening of the openicg of the door and she wondered at the grave smile on her lover's face. "She ia so good," continned Hyacinth *'I do not think she ever did wrone'in her life. How could she forgive me?"

A gentle hand was laid on her head a fair old face bent over her a trembiiDg voice said: "My dearest child, you have something to forgive in me. I did not make sufficient allowance for ycur youth. I did wrong to you, although I did it un consciously."

The girl's face had grown deadly pale at the first sound of Lidy Vaughan's voice, and the next minute she was kneeling at her feet, praying with tears and

Bobs

A few days more were spent happily enough at Hulme abbey, and then Sir Arihur and Lady Vaughan, Hyacinth and Lord Chandon returned to Qusen's Chase. They hrd to pss-j through London, and Lord Chandon insisted that they should call upon Dr. Chalmers, the best of all good Samaritans, he termed him.

The astonishment of the doctor and his mother was very graat. And you are goins to marry a great lord, my dear," said Mrs. Chalmers. "You are yourself of good lineage. I have always (old my son it was no use to love you as he did." "Did he—Dr. Chalmess love me?" she asked, her fair face flashing. "Indeed he did, my dear, although he waa too noble to say anything about it. He loved you, and I fear as long as he lives he will never love any one else."

She was perfectly right. Dr. Chalmers never learned to care for any other woman. He and his mother were always welcome guest at Chandon Court and Adrian, true to his wcr:l, proved to be one of tne doctor's best friend11. He was accustomed to siy, with a smile, that he had no loom in hia heart for anything but his profession but his mother knew that all his love had been lavished, and iavished in vain, on Hyacinth Vaughan.

CHAPTER XL.

Never had the May sua shone more brightly. It was the 22J of the month, yet every one declared it W33 more like the middle of June than of May. The roses were budding, the lilies of the valley sent forth their rich fragrance, the lilies were all in flower, and ths gjlden tresseeof the labaanum shone like 11 ime. The hedges were covered witn pink and white hawthornf the chestnut trees were all in bloom, the feathered denizens of the wood were singing, the grand old oaks seemed io have aroused themselves to fuller life.

What did all the brightness, tho melody, the gladness msan? It was Hyacinth Vaughan's wedding day and it ?eeiued to her thst everything njoieed. She had risen early, and had gone to rid farewell to the haunts it hor chilhood. Sao walk--d ill rough the woods wither ehe had (ltd that Mimmer night so long smcs to meet Ciaud. She remembered how she had returmd in lb« early dawn. She remembered tho fear and »nguidh of her second flight, teard of gratitude and happiness tilled het eyes. She raised her beautiful f.ice to the morning slik-s. "How am 1 to think Prondeiicc-?" *hs said. "I have been thrutigh the valley of the shadow of death, and now my happiness seems greater than I can bertr."

Qaeen's Chase seeated to have put on its gayest attire. The servants sroie new dresses and white wedding favors. It wns many a lesg day since there had been sucn a scene within thosa grand old walls, for the six fair urideaiaids were ail staying there and such cloud* of white tulle, such quantities cf flowers, such laces, such untold articles de luxe h-'d never been seen before.

Hyacinth and Adrian were to be married in the old parish church at Oakton and long hefore the hour of celebration crowds of people had assembled, with crowds of children, all bearing flowers to throw beneath the bride's feet. Crowds ol well-wishers came to bid her Godspeed. Theie was no confusion in the room where llyaaciuth Vaughn was being dretsed for her wedding. Lsdy Vaughn would assist, and the trembling hands threw the msgtiiUicent bridal-veil over the golden htad, and fastened the orange blossoms. "1 dressed you once, my dear," she said, "when you were a very littls babe, and it is fitting that I should dress you now."

From head to foot Hyacinth was simply perfection. The white satin welding dr"e6S, with in costly trimmings of rich la«% ft 11 in graceful folds arennd the slvrder figure. The veil did not quite conceal the radiance cf the lovely lace. Throngh it one caught a elimpse of bright, shy, droepiDg eyes, of sweet, crimson lips, and of a face flushed with dainty rose leaf bloom, of clustering golden tresses—a glimpse ravishing enough to make one wish to raise the veil, as Lady Vaughan did, and kiss the lovely owner. Ladv Vaughan took the magnificent boqtiet Lord Chnndon had sent and pi ced it in the little hinds.

"May

-2."'

«.«=-1 ists sKAsr and her ean Sir Auorey Dartelle— "beet niaa"—with ird Chandon was already wailing at the alter, and to all appearance seemed inclined to envy fcis friend's great good fortune.

for the pardon that was hot

difficult to win. Then Sir Arthur came in to see her, and would net listen to her expressioDB of regret. "You did no great harm, my t^ear," he said, "that I can see, and I will not have the matter mentioned again."

And these were the friends whom, in the depth of her agony and despair, she had run away from, never intending to look upon them again "I can not call you Miss Vaughav," said little Clara, a few days afterward, "although it is a much prettier than Holte. Veronica says you will be Lady Chandon soon—how many names wili you have had? Is it true?

Qaite true, little Clara," spoke Adrian and now, as you love Miss Vaughan so much, will you come home with her to Queen's Chase and be her bridemaid? You bh -11 have pretty white dress and a wreath." dy Dartelle made no objection to this arrangement. By this time the young ladies had grown devotedly attached to Mie3 Vaughan. They protested that they had al*".ys liked her— always perceived somethiEg very superior and distinguished about her.

Hyacinth smiled occasionally, having a very good memory, at theee protesta tions, but she was far too noble and generous to retaliate- She accepted the friendship for what it was worth, and the Mieses Dartelle were invited to be bride naicfe.

these tliwors be an tmbiem of

your fu'ure life, my dearest child!" she said. You have no proud mother to kiss and yon to-dsy, and your dear father sleeps ihe slepp of heroes but in your mother's name I kUs you, and I pray heaven to bless vou, my darling.-'

It Wfs a grand sight when the wedding precession moved up the aisle of the old gray chnrch—the six bridemaids, with

There wss almost breathless isilence in chnrch ss the solemn ceremony proceeded. People remarked afterwarahow low and sweet Hyacinth's voice was—

^"Perfectly but I can not hope tor how she seemed to lose sight of every that," she said. "Lady Vaugoan will thirgnnd every one and r-mombered never forgise me. Ah, Adrian, vou know only the words she was ho. p,.»d, ho. ah. i.-ho. r*a, in her Botiozis cf honor. 1 c&o not expect her ever to speak to me again."

ding march," the bells bega to chine, and thildr 11 ung their flowers. Adrian Lord Ctiandon and Hyacith Vaughan were hniband and wife now never to be parted more "uatil death."

The drive home through the suoiit roads, lined with people, was rever forgotten by them. Not much time had the new-made husband to devote BO his wife. Eut, as they entered the house, and old friends ami new friends crowded round them, he took her a moment in his arms. "Mite at last, my darling," he said— "to be parted never jnoif!

Then ame the wedding breakfist, with its^fpeeches and toastf after tvhich, to quote the "Oakton Mercury," the happy piir prc-cseded to Chandon court where tr.e honeymoon was to be spent." "A very elegant wedding," remarked Veronica Dirtelle, and the two sisters, who had really been polite and amiable, had another reason for remembering that day. It was all so pleasant, the bride was BO fair and sweet, the bridegroom so handsome and manly, the force cf love to very attractive, that Sir Richard Hsstings succumbed.

Mildred saw that he waa rapidly softening under tbe influence cf the day, and she became every hour more amiable. After the departure of Lord and Lady Chandon, a biroll in ths evening gloam'cg WSB suggfsted and, as they walked together under fl wing limes. Sir Richard proposed, and Mildred accepted hini. S3"

One wedding makes aiany," said L*dy Dartelle, to whom her daugheer at once imparted tho secret, "I shall he Lady Rssling," remarked Mildred, "flereaily is a good sort of man, mamma, nd he has an excellent income. I might have done much worsp." "You will be a hsppy woman," said Lady Dartelle, "and you area most fortunate one."

Mildred stood quite silent for some minute?, and then bending over her mamma, she kissed her. "I tell yon what, namma," she said, shyly—"I mean to be better temper. Since I have known Ltd/ Chflndon, I have often been quite ashamed of myself, ami I mean to try—I do, indeed."

She did try. and people now speak of Lady Mildred Hastings as a very amiable, considerate woman. Veronica wa not married until some years afterward and then she married an old marquis, who had a grown up son. She was not unhappy, but being gifted with a very sensitive disposition. Her principal amusement consists in patroniling her mother and sister, who both recent it highly.

CHAPTER XLt.

Thres years have passed since that bright wedding day. Looking on the radiaut face of Lady Chandon, one could hardly believe that desolation and anguish had marked her for her own. There was no shadow now in tbe3e beautiful eyes, for the face wss full of love and happiness.

No one ever seemed to remember that there was once something rather strange about her. When she first went into society she was shy and ditSdent, afraid of cri. ticism—frightened almost at her own position. But her own beauty and grace, her brilliant gifts, her delicate wit, her thousand charms of body and mind, soon made her beloved. Scandal or rumor never raised one breath against her.

The little telr—whom she would insist on calling Darcy—was ju»t one year old and, as Lady Vaughan was not well or Btrong, yet lougtd to see him, she sent a pressing invitation to his pai8nts to adjourn to Queen's Chase when the London season should be over.

They accepted it and great was the delight cf Sir Arthur and hi8 stately lady with the little heir of Chandon. They were never weary of watching him, and talking about the future that awaited him.

For Adrian Lord Cnancon.his father, was now one of the leading men in inland. He was a famous staiesman, and an eloquent speaker. Great houors had been psid to him. He himself always declared that he had won everything in winning his peer''e33 wife.

Oae rooming L*dy Chandon was iu the nursery with .dy aughan, who had gone to look at the baby. There were admiring him, his golden curls, his dark eyes, tho grace of his rounded limbs the sweet dimpled mouth, when Lord Chandon suddenly appeared upon tt scene. "Hyacinth," he said, "will you come down' stairs? There are visitors for you

S he kisted the baby face, and turned to her bush ind with a smile. It struck her that he looked veTy grave, llo drew her hand within bis rwn, and they left the nursery together. She could not avoid noticing his 'gravity and silence. "Who is it. Adrian?" she asked. "Who wants pae? You look so grave, I am almost frightened." '•If I look grave, sweet, it is for your sake, not iny cwn. I wish yon to go down. The visitors awaiting you are Mr. and Mrs. Lidy Claude Lennox."

She drew back with a start, and her face flushed hotly. "Claude!" she repeated. OJ, Adrian, I would rather not eo!-' "It will be better, darling. Mr. Lennox and I shall be obliged to meet in London, for he is in parliament npw,and we are of the same shade exactly in politics. He will live at the Park some da/, and it will be better to be on visiting terms." "So he is married she Slid. "Yes, he has married Lvjy Gnraldine the Duchess of Lufton's youngest daughter—a very eentle, amiable gir.."

Bat still Hyacinthe seemed unwilling to enler the drawing room. "I hive never seen him, Adrian," she said, "since the morning of the trial. I —I cannot go in 1'

Lord Chandon kissed the beautiful face. "For mv sake, darling," he said—'"and becaure I *sk it."

Her husband's wish was sufficient. She entered the room and Clanda advanced to meet her. It was like a dream, seeing him again—hearing him speak. He looked agitated as he advanced toward her, holding out his hand. "L:dy Chandon," he Baid, "I am delighted to see you."

And the fervor with which he clasped her hands, the delight in his f»ce, told that he was speaking tbe truth. She was introduced to bis wife, and Hva* ciata speedi[y conceived a liking for her. Lsdy Geraldine was very fond of fl jwers, and during the course of conversation she asked Lord Chandon to show her hia famous conservatories. They all four went together, bnt Claude, who was

their queer, little Clar», stately Sir walking with D*dy Chandon, purposely

TEKBE HAUTE, SU-NDAl, l)i.Y 10, 1887.

r^„--

lingered near rams beantifal heliotrope, "Pardon me," he said, "if I say one woid to yon, Ladv Chandon. Do not be at gry vr*ih ine 1 have never had the opportunity before, I want to thank yon with all my heart for what you did for me—for having saved my life." "Do not thank me," she reiurned "I only did my dnty." "Have yon heird that the man Bsrratt months afterward confessed the murder, and was executed for it?"

An expression of pain came over her face. "No, I have nev^r heard it until now. Mr. L?nt,cx, the very remembrance of that time is so painful to me that I cannot bftar the mention cf it. Let there be no further reference to it between us." "I only desired to thank von," he said "and, Lady Chandon, I wish to ask you great favor. You will like mv wife, Lady Gerahline, I think. Will^ou be her friend? Will you let ns all be frionds? We should be so bappv." 'She answered "Yes." And to this day ihey are all on the most intimate and friendiy terms.

After Clauds and Lady Geraldine had driveu away, Lord Chandon returned to the drawing room, and saw his wife standing by tne window, with a grave look on her^beautiful face. He went to her. "What are you thinking about, Hyacinth? ne asked.

She clasped het arras around his ueck and bent h^r golden hesd. 'T am th?j!iing, Adrian," she said, "that, remembering iny great fault, I do not deserve to bs half so happy SB I atn

Bat he kis^d the sweet lips and said— "Hush! That is passed and done with. After al), my darling, it was but the SHADOW OF A SIN."

THE END.

Hitting the Bull's-Eye. "What is the best score ever made in youi place?" asked a New York Mail and Express reporter of the proprietor of a large shooting gallery on the Bowery. "That depends upon what targets are taken into consideration. Some men have made fifty bull's-eyes in su ces sion, but that was shooting at the large targets. The best fcore ever made on the Bowery, in my judgment, was that made by Mr. Browu, an old member of the International tie Team He made forty nine out of a possible fifty on the smallest target in my gallery, of an inch in diameter. Mr. Brown comes here to practice almost every day, and he always attracts a crowd. So does Mr. Stewart, of the 69th Regiment. The most difficult shot to make in the world is at a glass ball which dances up and down on a spray of water. Its movements are so sudden and unexpected that it takes t£e quickest eye to follow them. The most expert s«ots miss it repeatedly. I introduced it ou the Bowery a few weeks ago, and it has proved a wonelerful attraction. A man must shoot without the least hesitancy to break one of those dancing balls. It id the best practice for rapid shooting in tbe world. If one ttops to take a careful aim he will almost certainly make a miss. Riise the rifle quickly and (/till the trigger the second the sight covers tbe ball. That is the only way. Swinging objects have ft uniform motion, which renders them easy to hit, hut the erratic manner in which the glass ball p^ps ur and down precludes the possibility of calculation.'' "What class of men do you account your best patrons?" "JJembers of the militia come here oflenest to practice. Next to them come the Germans. Every night parties of Germans come here to engage in friendly contests. They are the merriest people in the world, and make great sport for the onlookets."

No One Startled.

A very pleasant looking man stood on the corner of Woodward and Michigan avenues yesterday -ml beckoned to a pedestrian who seemed to be in a great hurrv. "Eh? What is it?" asked the latter, as he halted. "Ive got a paper I'd like" "Oh, hane the papetsl I wouldn't take the statement of any Detroit paper if all the editors would swear to it!"

But this paper mentions your" "Yes, I presume it mentions my name, bnt what do I c.ire? The papers a:e al ways lying about me, anyhow." "But I've got to do my duty and take" "Take what? Whst are you driving at?" •'My^dear sir, I've got a warrant for your arrest." "Oh Then why didn't you say so at first?" "I didn't want to startle yon." "I see. Accept my thanks for your kindness, and''

And when the constable got up and got tbe dust out of his eyes the man was halt a mile away.—[Detroit Free Piees.

Valuo of Imparial Tokay. The emperor cf Austria's prepent to the queen will be a ease of the finest imperisl Tokay. This wine contains a great quantity of phosphoric acid, and it is a wonderful tonic. It was Prince Al hen's invariable custom to drink one glass of Tokay every elay after dinner and he bad as much respect for it as & "pick-me-up" ss George IV. had for his black chcrry brandy.

A gift of Tokay is pn small affair at Vienna. The emperor Ferdinand wished to muke a present, of a quantity of this "ine to the late king of the Netherlands, and ss it was thought by tbe court efficials that there was none sufficiently old ii the imperial cellars, a thousand bcttles of the finest and oldest Tokay were procured from Cracow, at the monstrous rice of £3 os. 4d. a bottle. [London Truth.

A True Mother of Heroes. A recent application of a West Virginian named Brawn at the pension office in Washington brought to light the fact that one mother had given sixteen sons to the service of the union during the war. She had borne thirtythree children in all, of whoa twenty were boys, and of these only four did not serve as soldiers in the union army. Two were killed and fourteen survive. Each of the latter is to day in receipt of a pension irom the government for disabilities received in the service and_ the ieath cf her other soldier sons entitles the mother also to a pension, 'l he caae is an interesting ooe, not only for t' remarkable number of eons of one mother who wore the blue, but as illustratine how contagious was the war Bpirit in some families along the line of fire.

The German Crown Prince. Tbe British Medical Journal says Dr. Morell Mackenzie hss removed almost all of the fnngus growth that remained in the throat of the German crown priiica when he left home. The Journal adds, h' wever, that since the last operation was performed the prince has caught a severe cold, the result of which is that his pharynx and larynx are both acutely congested the parts in the vicinity cf the growth, being lies aflected than the others. The ltcal swelling has caused some difficulty in swallowing, but it is hrped that this will eoon disappear. Tfce case at present requires the greatest carp, and will requite it for several weeks. In the meac* time, surgical operations on the prince's throat will be suspended. Dr. McKen zie is not troabled with the prince's con dition,

PRETTY FEET,

And Something About Pretty Shoos They Wear.

The Confessions of a Fashionable Shoe Dealer^—Big Shoes and Small Shoes—Trouble OTer Careless Remark?.

When a msn is told for the first time that a horse's head is as long as a barrel of flour his first expression is one of in* crrdulity. But the etatement is aDproximately correct. So, too, those who are unused to exact measurement stare when they are told that for true symmetry the human foot should be as long as the ulna, or bone of the forearm, measured from the point of the elbow to the small head cf the bone at the wrist. Some, who have looked at a beautiful belie, when—

Her feet, beneath her pettiest. Like little mice, ran in and oat—

would at first, be rather inclined to question this ri le of bodily symmetry, but painters and sculptors and anatomists are free from such ignorant doubts.

There is always a g'amonr about a pretty feminine foot. When the owner is lovely in other respects, the addition ot pretty .little feet makes a combination that is perfectly irresistible. Small wonder is ttiat enterprising boot and shoe manufacturers strain every nerve and force to make their coverings for ladies' feet as beautiful, small and shapely as possible. Lees wonder is that otherwise sensible women deliberately select boots too small, and crush and torture their pedal extremities to gsin a parsing glance of admiration fiom the sterner sex. "Bian eautee, bien chausee, e'est bien habille," is a terse and truthful French saying that means "well eloved and well shoed is well dressed.'*' Both gloves and boots should be larce enough, and should harmonize with the dress. Nothing but black shoes should be worn on the 6treet. Indoors, shoes should be of the same color an the dress, and perhaps a litt'e dtrker. If a white dress is worn, shoes of another color may be chosen, but the contrast should not be too startling. A sandal slipper with a small button on each band, is a very becoming auxiliary to a handsome foot. Where the instep is low, and the foot imperfect and shapeless, the wearer of sandals should consult safety in bow trimmings.

Short women generally try to appear tall by wearing high heels. Many women whose feet are not small try to make them appear so by wearing high heels, because the latter are generally placed forward and towards the hollow of thi foot. The result is that the weight of the body forces the to?3 in tha narrow vamp in front, and from this comes not only an imperfect and ungraceful walk, hut great discomfort and pain, together with expense iu the shape of liberal fees to chiropodists.

The nisn who takes the orders for custom-made sheea can show some curious s'ghts frrm his books. Everj one who has very cr very little feet come to him, ar ho has to study the formation of soft corns, swollen joints, crossing toes, bunions, hard corns, ingrowing nails and hundred? of otner defects und ma!formation. Others, however, if small, dainty li and 2.', are fascinating in their beauty. They look line baby's feet slightly enlarged, and are 80 small and perfect that they almost taka away the breath with rapturous del'ght. "It is curious to watch the different mental attitudes of my fem^li customer0," said the proprietor of a first class store, where most of the creioe de I a ere.me are customers. Some are bashful, and some are free and easy. The rich girl, who gets seven or eight psirs of shoes or boots a year, hes n' fastidiousness about her. She sits down ana don't make sry fuss abjut putting out her foot to be measured. She comes here to get a pair of shr es just the same as she comes to get anew hat at her milliner's, or half a dozen pair of stockings at a dry goods store. It she thinks there is an aeoideatal hole in her stockings, she may be very careful, not otherwise. "When ladies dehl at oue store they generally select ooe clerk to do the fitting, and fce is alwa-.s the best looking young man in the store. They don't want me—oh, dear no! They sometimes come in bevies cf two, three or four, and pick out their favorite salesman and make a pleasure party of it. They are very kind, sprightly and pleasant to the clerk, and txotct the same treatment, cf course. Now, that clerk over there handles the prettiest feet in town. Sometimes I think a girl uncounsciously lifts her skirt an inch or two above the top button of her boot, but ehe thinks noth ii:g about it. Shoe clerks ft re used to that. They're jast Hie artists about a model. If a girl or a woman has a pretty foot or ankle she is not afraid to show it. Honi »o:t qici nxaly peine! It's all a matter of business. Of course, tbere'ouo denying that a shoe clerk hss lo take more liberties than other salesmen, but nobodv, not even himself, consid-.M it out of the way. 'Why, a young man came to ni? once and talked to me confidentially in the back office. He eaid he would give me fl) if 1 would let him clerk here for one week. 'What for?' Bflid I. Well, he conf.-ssed reluctantly that a certain girl was coming here to get a pnir of shoes made, and he wanted some instructions and the privilege of measuring her foot. I told him no. He pleaded, but I shut him up Hv threatening to tell the girl. He lef", 'ooiing like a sheep. "Flirt? No, sir! shoe clerks don't tlirt. It is only natuial wheu ycu h3ve a yotmg and good looking man ia your employ that the ladies are attracted toward him, and they like him to be polite and attentive. Some proprietors think it just the tfein^ to hive a masher in their store to draw cus'om, but I don't. It isn't sife. Fiirtine gets tiouble and trouble means lo?s of custom. "Newly married men must be afraid of shoe clerks. lathe honeymoon they always come with their wives to gat the first pair. They hover around and sometimes do the clerk's work in filing, the shoes. They adjust the draj iog ol iheir wile's dress, with a great deal of caution.

But after that «he can come alone and buy her own shoes. He naver comes again. "Than again there sre very modest girls and women. Ttey go to b.iy pair of shoes like goirgtohave a tooth pnlled. They will pass the eh.or of the stoie two or three times before tbey muster up courage. I can (pot them every lime. Invariably they have bi. feet p.nd anklr-3. Tbey are ejuite uncomfortable about the drapery and wont hardly give the clerk a ch nee to fit them. If anybody e!se looksHf them while thty are being fitted, even another clsrk, the chances ere that they will put on their own sbo^s ud leave the Btore. Th*y get uncomfortable you know. I foibid the cler^F in my store from looking at another clerk at work. "Why don't I have women clerks? No, it would never do. Women prefer men to wait on them. Th^n again, mo women wear rhoes to p'ease men, and they want a man's opinion and judgment. Besides, on general piinciples, men are better at selling goods than women any way. You see, a young nvan wants to learn the business, and he ii a valuable hand perhaps he wants to start a atjoe store himself some time and he will pay the greatest attention to the large and small things of tbe business, including the wtiima and capricee of lady

tp

customers. Bit a womsn sells good? only as a means of bri-lging over a period of time till she ge's married *r-d txcomee 1 mistress of her own houw. Concq-rent ly she is r.ot as g.%vl as »n. B-fcidce, they hav8 very little sympathy with ttie crochets and vanities of their own sex, and customers know it instinctively."

CURRENT NOTES.

The snmmer resorts are filling up, s*v* an exchange. And so are the hatbands who stay at home.—Buffalo Express.

Briareus was the only mythological character who eonld be perfectly hsppy while drivins out with his girl. He had 100 hands.—Burlington Free Press.

First stnden' of medicine—I say, Fritz, did you see those boys, stick out their tongues at us? Second student— Yes, and it does me prond. They evidently tak" UR for full fledged doctors.— From the German. •'Don't ycu suppose," said a member of the police fore?, "that a policeman knows a rogue when he se«s him?" "No doubt," was the reply "but tho trouble is that he does not seiz9 a rogue when he knows him."—Buflalo Commercial. "Do yon call this a band of picked musicians?" said a hotel manager to the leader of a summer band. "Acb dot vos st, I bick 'em minesellef," replied the handmaeter. "Well then, you picked them before they were tipo."—Christian Unior.

Mrs. Z. (to Z., just hack from a business trip to Paris)—O, what lovely diamonds! what exquisite pearls! and all for me? Mr. Z—Yes, dear. From the crcwn jewel sale. Mrs Z.—How terribly naughty you must have bsen over there, you dear old humbug, you!—French Fun.

If there is snvthing queenly and imperial about Victoria's apnearai.ee, of which there is much room for doubt, it iscfTefuUy left out of all portraits cf her which are published. She might do for the ruler of a Granel Dutch-y, but for the head of an empire, never.—Lowell Courier,

A 12 year-old lad of Sag Harbor, Me., daily sits down to the table with his father and mother, grandfather and grandmother, and great-gradfather and two great grandmothers. The little fellow has a hunted look and dodges at every word that is spoken.—[Burlington Free Press.

In a book entitled "The Beer of the Bible," the author undertakes to prove that the leaven which the Israelites car ried out of Egypt with them was an Egyptian beer, called "booza." The discovery is more important than at first thought it appears to be, for now it is easily understood why the Egyptiahosts took to water. The Irraelites had run off with all the beer.—[Boston Transcript.

Not a Whisper.

"Father! father!" shouted the son of a Pennsylvfnia farmer as he rushed into the house,"it's come!" "What?" "Natural gfs!" "Nea! William, don't you lie to me." "But we've struck it—me and Jim— down behind tbe barn." "Well, shet right op or the old woman will hear you. Not a word to her, William—not a whisper! Time we struck ile I had to buv hsr two cslico dresses, and when we found coal she struck for a pair of shoev. If she hears of this she'll want a two-dollar Bhawl and like enough a pair of thetr red stockings. Muni ia the word, William." —[Wall Street News.

Give Us a Military Museum. The discussion of the battle (lags will not have be#n in vain if it serves to attract public attention to the question why the Uuite:! States does not maintain a national military and naval museum. That wa have not established such a museum in Washington since the war of the rebellion must be deemed a remarkable thing when we consider the enormous int^reat that is felt in all parts of country in the great struggle between the northern and southern states in 18S1-5. The supply of relics is certainly great enough to piovide the material for a museum second to none of the great military ni'i—tiro* of Europe in uttrac'iveness.—[Washington Capital.

A Royal Patient.

The crown pricce of Germany astonishes those around him by the resignation and good temper with which he bears his very trying ailment. He grumbles, it is true, at the diet on which be i*necessarily ept, but only in a grimly humorous fashion. As he is n..t permit ted for the present to speak even iu a whisper, he always has a small porcelain i-lste at his side, ori which he writes his wishes. And not infre'iuentiy he amuses his wifesnd daughters, who are indefatigable in their attentions, by expressing his wants by means of th se quaint little drawings and hieroglyptiics, like those u-ed in the rebuses so dear to the readt-ra of puzz papers.

A Boy's Idea of a Thunderstorm A little hoy about 4 years okl, living i'.i aNew Jersey town, ran to the window one evenirg lately during a heavy thun-der-storm. As he looked out, long, glitteiir.g lines of forked, z'g zig lig'jtninu rsn across the hlick say, then came a broad fl.tsh, lighting up all the west and nOithwest. ''Oh, jinmma! naamms!'' sobbed the little felloT, "Goil'a house i- ail on fire! Will He b- burned up in it?"

A ffw moments after, bearing the rain pouring in torrents, he ran to her, crying exultantly: "Mamma! mamma! God has turned on His hose. Now Hij house won't bum up."-—[Harper's Magz'.no.

Hermann and the Watch. Hermann once performed before the Sultan A'od il AzTz and threw a valuable watch of his majesty's into the Bosptioru3. There wss a great outcry, which the cor :rer checked by conjuring up the watcn again into the sultan's pocket. For this he received a present of GOO Turkish pound-!. It seeijis, howt-ver, that he realty did throw the etiltan'u watch into the water, and that the or.e which he conjured bank was a replies eluplicate, obtained beforehand from the maker of the original timepiece.—[London Times.

Why He Smiles.

The young man who h^s a seat in a horse car between two pretty girls always smiles complacently. When the conductor calls "Move up p'ease room one more on this side."—[Soaierville Journal.

Without Trusted Leaders. With Mike McDonald retired and the HOD. Craig Tolliver. of Kentucky, dead, the Democratic party is in hard luck for daring and accomplished leaders.— [Lincoln (Neb.) Journal.

A Valuable Bible.

The Crawford library, recently sold in London, contained $35,000 worth of bibles. The Mazirin, the most important one, sold for $13,250.

Illinois Progress.

The vigorous Ssxon name, Hell's Bend, applied to a spot in Illinois, has heec changed to the eeductite title, Pleasant Grove.

r*«ss-BW

ft CAUSE GELEBRf.

Story of the Princess Who Waa to Have Becomo KiLg

Lud_

wig's Wife,

W'r t'oMMchW," Broke, OJ..J Why the King liied BrokenHearted.

It was on June 10,1SS6, that Ludwi* of Bavaria, known as the "Man Mon arch," put an end a remarkable" though in many regards an enatic eXl ietence by throwiog himself into'the Starnberger lake. It ceruinl* is tha irony of fate thst the ones famous hride of Lndwig should a ye.r nfter former lover's death be summoned before a commission which is t0 determine her raentsl status. This unfortunate woman ia none other than the Princess Sophie, the

pwsent

Duchess of Alencon. In her veins flows the bluest of the blue blood of the leading European sovereigns. She is the sister of the Empress of Austria, of Buk* '..'ail Theodore of Bivsrh. the noted ccu list, who married the Duchess of Portugal. Her two other sisters are the former Queen of Naples and the Frircess of ihurno ncd Taxis of Ktgeneburg. She was the dauuhter cf thst brilliant and unfortunate monarch Maximilian, and her mother is tho Duchess Ludo'vika who is row an octogenarian. It has become a historical fact that she was the first and oniy love of King Ludwig, to whom she was betrothed sirae v?ars a'go. Her relations with the court phoicgrapher Von Hofstangel became so notorious that her union with Ludwfg wss not to be thought cf by the monarch, sod it is said that tha rupture broke his heart snd contributed not a little to his mental decay. 10 the meantime the Princess had mairied the Duke of Ale' in.

The Sctile-ncbe itur,g, published at Meran, Tyrol, under the date of June 11. hae tho following regarding the Princess"' unfortunate career:

The Duke oJ Alencon, his wife »nd 1-uighter, have passed teveral weeks in Meran. During the time, at the solicitation of the L"u!ie, a commission consist-

Mg of two local physicians, Herr von Ziimssf-n, ot the seer»t service, snd Professor Dr. Graschei, the son-in-law of tho iatc Dr. Giiddeu, who came here from Munich. This com mission, pfter due ielibcrjvtion, have declared the Duchess of Alencon non compos meut, aud she has be?n taken to Grsz, where she wilt ii« undt-r the treatment of Dr. Kraf Ebing, a prominent specialist on nervous and mental disorders. The uafortuoate woman has contented to a consultation with Dr. Billroth, of Vienna, tha former 11 tor of her brother, tho Duke C«rl Theodore.

Tins sensational occurrence has a still more sensation al beginning. The Duchess of Alencon, as is well known, wss formerly the Princt^ss S.ifhie, the daughter uf M'tximi.'isn and the sister of tha inprets of Austria. Site w™ f,r along time the accepted bride of King Ludirig If. The union neiver took place, for the 8ime causes which have been productive of the reception of the princess in a lunalic asylum. Eirly in the snrumer of 1886 she was attacked by a severe case ot scsrlet fever. Cured of this, she suffered bronchial sl'.lic'ion which necessitated csreful medical treatment. It wa3 during t! ia last attack that Ludwig called to hia sid tbe waters of LakeSternlierger lo end hia life. After this the duchess wi'iit to R"ichenh»ll lo recuperate, and then obtained the consent of her husband to go to Munich for treatment during the winter. Site took a private residence on Ludwig st-cet, and her husband, with iheir 12 ye.ir old boy, went to Eog!and, where he renmined during the winter. During t^e Duchess' stay in Munich her name was brought into very unpleasant prominence' in connection with thst of a prominent physician uuder whose treatment she bad placed rself. Dr. (J.

A-as a married man, enjoyed a innnenso practice among the nobility of Munich, r.tul no medical consultation wss considered a pe feet one unless this dUcipie cf Hippocrates was present. Before many months hsd psssed, however, tho xtorui had broken over hi? In-ad, and in its passage had involved tr.e Duchess ard several other :iromineit ladies of Munich. The physician's wife hsd becouao suspicious, and breaking into the de^k of her faithless hufhacd, she found crimioatirg letters againet the Duchess and other ladie3. She at onco began divorce proceedings. The Duke of Alencon hastily Mt Eisland, leaving hid son thera, fr.r Miimoh, and after a shortS tirn he went toN B3, and finally arrived in Merai, where tiis brother-in-law, the Duke, Dr. Carl Theodore, was pracricic.g his profpoiicn. As is known, shortly alter thi?, ar.d most unpxpecrtd!v, the Empress of Austria arrived iu Munich, where she 'S niet by tho two o.h^r sisters of the Ductiess, the recent Queen of NapleH, sn.-J t'-e Priecaes of Tuiirn and Taxis, of ]L?g»-ns-hurg. It was Biibsf(juently afoertsined that their presence w,'.s for the purple of folding & family LGUIK II with thfir ^gfd and deeply adected mother, tho Duchess Ludovika.

A piibiic hfaring of the divorce suit is not to be avoided, arid it will he cilled up in a short time. The wror.ged wifa of the medical Don Jam

is firm

in her

determination to force matters to a finality. The Piince Sophie has in the p^iiiful interval acted, not only wi'ri nonchalano-, bnt ith

uiter

reckle'sao.s,

ard ehe b"6 taken no pains to i.hie her blind Hifatintion for the phTwcim. This is given as an a! solute proof of her mental incapacity. Her severe »nd lengthy attacks of sickness msy sh ve ti-d much to do with her condition. A t^.egrj'.tn just received from Gr.'-z frj1^ ''r Kraft, Ebling, states that the condition of lhe unfortunate woman indicates a rnpiu recovery. The same treatment woich •estored the Dili hess Thyra of Cumberland is to be resorted to. in Munich the topic of t,onversation is thl psi.-dul cause celebre. The Duke of A'eccoi is ssid tle much in love with hi.*, wife, sod tr.e mother, daughter, and sbters of tbe unfortunate wom: all have the beartnst sympathies cf the populace."

Jews and Gentilos in London. It is computed that the income of tbe London Jews ia nearly £3.000,000 per annum. The lowest estimate is £3 SOS,• 430, which gives JC32 per be*d »r 47,000 pe.rsora. Tfie average irrome for the native population of the I ...i:ed Kingdom is only £35, so thm the J-ws are t.woar. a half times richer lhan th' Grntilee. it. is estimated that 100 Jewish families in London have a yearly income of over £1-000 1,400 families an income ol over £1,000, and 8:0 an income »f ovpr £500. Men with incomes of over £iu,uuu a year are twenty times as numerous among Jews as among our own people men with over £3,000 a year are nearly seventeen times as num-rous, and people with over £500 nearly six times as numerous.—London Truth.

Publishing the Paupe/s. In Switzerland county the nsmes of all the paupers outside of the poor house are published qu-rterly, and the amount famished them

from

the

public treasury.

This is a good plan, and should be done in every county. If people are off the county the taxpayers should ow who they aie— [Rising Sun K«cordtr.